


Smoke From a Distant Fire

by jenajasper



Series: Lean On Me [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Brotherly Love, Burns, Caretaker Sam, Dean Has Nightmares, Dean remembers the house fire, Fear of fire, Gen, Injured Dean, Nightmares, Saving People Hunting Things, evil firestarter, reference Supernatural Pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:24:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenajasper/pseuds/jenajasper
Summary: The threat of fire to a family stirs memories in Dean





	1. Chapter 1

Dead kids. Nothing got his anger up faster. He had only to look across at the passenger seat to see what evil could do to a child's life…..or look in the mirror.

And it was being caused by fire.

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He was only four years old when he was handed his six-month old brother in order to save him. It would be the first time in a lifetime.

The fire had destroyed his home and, in essence, his family. His father became more taskmaster than counselor more trainer than nurturer encouraging him to become more father to his baby brother. And he also became the perfect soldier, following orders and doing his duty. All the while, doing whatever was necessary to protect his brother.

And always, there was a single-minded purpose to destroy the cause of that fire.

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Dean had driven most of the night. His brother had finally fallen asleep after several hours of debate on the wisdom of stopping to rest. It was too urgent; he needed to reach these children and stop this fire.

Sam realized that when Dean was this focused, there was no wiggle room. They both knew it was out of love that these arguments grew. Each of them wanting to save the other. But Sam also knew that his brother's need to protect was beyond the bounds of responsibility and love, it was life affirming.

He drove a couple of hours more before reaching the town. He didn't wake Sam until he had secured their room and unloaded the car. He went immediately for a shower. The day had started and there was work to do. His brother's pleading for him to rest went unheeded.

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With the help of the man who had become their surrogate father, they had done all the research and gathered the information needed to stop the killing.

They had discovered that they were dealing with a firestarter demon. It had the ability to create fire, using the heat to steal energy, destroy life and kill children. The family unit was the ultimate object of its desire. It was not so unlike the 'yellow-eyed demon' that set Winchester home ablaze in order to defile Dean's brother and others it had decided to collect.

Dean's blood boiled with the memory. They had finally killed that demon. And even though, he, himself, had pulled the trigger, he would never take glory in it. He was merely doing his job, avenging his father and saving his brother.

Sam insisted on taking over the driving and making time for breakfast. In fact, he was adamant. Dean realized that this argument was fruitless; he knew he was no match for Sam's puppy dog eyes. Besides, he was hungry and he could definitely go for a cup of coffee.

While they ate, they planned their attack. The danger always presented itself in the same way. Sam had found the signs and Dean had discerned the pattern. At this point, they needed only to be in the right place at the right time. They finished their meal, Dean had another cup of coffee and they hit the road.

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The family was husband, wife, and 2.2 kids, the .2 a toddler not quite having mastered the ability to walk. And a dog.

Sam and Dean were seated in the Impala, which parked across the road from the house at enough of a diagonal to have a three-quarter view of the property.

They reviewed the methodology they had developed. The power of the creature was in its hand. It took human form, requiring invitation like the myth of the vampire. Once gaining entry, its dominance was irrevocable and death was imminent.

Dean reminded his brother to watch for any small fires as this was the means of covering up his actions with the appearance of an accident. They knew they must sever the hand, while it was performing the spell, in order to stop it. However, once it had begun its spell, the touch was deadly.

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As time passed, without incident, Dean dozed off. His extreme weariness from lack of sleep overwhelming his adrenaline. It was not a dreaming sleep only a slight removal from consciousness. It was just enough to float feelings of sorrow and anxiety from the memory of another home and family, to the surface.

Suddenly, his brother called to him, taking note of a delivery man. They watched the driver stagger and then lean heavily on the vehicle. They saw him open and close his left hand, wiggling the fingers, as one does with a freshly repaired injury. He recovered, reaching in to retrieve a package.

As he approached the door, the brothers rechecked their weapons and followed.

The delivery man entered the home. There was a flash. Dean looked to his brother at the same instant that Sam turned to him. Words were unnecessary; they ran matching stride for stride. Their momentum unhinged the door, each with a blade soaked in holy water, at the ready.


	2. Chapter 2

A small blue flame was leaking out from the left hand of the demon. Smoke and an aura of heat had begun to emanate from the parents. The hand moved slowly, as if sliding across a pane of glass, inching toward the children.

Without hesitation, Sam and Dean leaped at the attacker. Sam wrapped his arms around the shoulders, in an attempt to drag it down. He was having difficulty controlling the beast. It was emitting enough heat to exhaust Sam, in the way too much sun can affect you. As strong as he was, he could do little more than hold on.

The hand continued its arc. On pure instinct and the memory of a family destroying fire from long ago, Dean reached out to grab the hand while simultaneously raising the blade to make his strike. "No, Dean!"

He ignored his brother calling out his name and a warning even as the grip was completed. Sam was unable to swing his blade for fear of hurting Dean. So, he watched helplessly as his brother's body convulsed and his eyes began to roll back in his head. With pure determination and force of will, Dean brought his blade down to sever the hand and all three men collapsed to the floor.

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Sam quickly scanned the room as he removed himself from beneath the monster. He saw that the parents were conscious and moving. The room temperature felt cooler. He looked to the eldest child and told him to call for help while continuing to untangle himself. He was relieved to see that the children were unharmed, thanks to Dean. DEAN!

He found his brother face down and not moving. He was hot to the touch and still holding the severed hand, in a macabre handshake. There was a stench of burned flesh and blood. Sam manipulated the fingers to release the grip and felt the drip of warm fluids on his skin. He grabbed the offensive body part and flung it forcefully against the farthest wall.

Sam gasped when he saw his brother's hand. The skin was charred and partially melted. The palm had burst apart like a rotted melon, the moisture seeping out along with the heat.

He turned Dean over onto his back and saw his eyelids flutter then open. His ragged breathing and wrinkled brow belied his attempt to put his younger brother at ease by smiling. "You okay, Sammy?" He asked as he raised his uninjured hand to stroke Sam's face.

It never changed, no matter how seriously he was hurt, Dean's first thought was always to check on his brother. Sam nodded, unsure if he would be able to hide the fear in his voice.

..

"And the kids?" Dean asked, his hand pressing on Sam's cheek for emphasis. Again, Sam nodded. But, then he forced himself to speak when Dean asked about the demon. "It's done. Everybody else is fine. Help is on the way."

Dean's pain shot through him like a replay of the original incident. His body shook uncontrollably. He grabbed his right wrist and finally took a look at his hand. The injury was way beyond their ability to repair but, he preferred not to get involved with the local authorities.

His brother could also assess the damage and became insistent. This would require some serious medical attention. Sam was sure the family would bear witness to them being the good guys. Dean acquiesced, the pain making the decision.

Although Sam was speaking from fear, he berated his brother for being reckless. Reckless?, Dean thought. These people needed saving; the fire was already starting and the children were in danger. He did what was necessary; his own safety was unimportant.

His breathing was broken by his attempt to control the pain. His left hand gripped the right forearm almost like a tourniquet to stop the flow of blood which fueled his agony.

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With the same special mental powers that we all have, Sam looked at his brother's hand and into the future. He saw the pain and the therapy, the skin grafts he felt would come.

He saw the dressings and the awkwardness of need. And he saw the end, if not a very long hiatus from the job. He saw the loss of the simple things, tying a shoe and driving a car. This last thought causing a catch in his throat and a determination to make it right.

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Sam looked at the attacker. His training prevented him from using the machete and he merely touched the beast it to guarantee it was dead. He registered the lower temperature of the monster with a quizzical look. Satisfied that the creature was indeed dead, he turned his attention back to his brother.

He knew how susceptible burns were to infection, and he would use all the first-aid knowledge he had to aid Dean until help arrived.

He gingerly lifted the damaged hand and looked. The skin had cooled considerably and Sam blinked several times fearing he was hallucinating.

Dean's hand appeared to be healing itself. It was now obscenely swollen and blistered but dry, all the evidence of blackened skin had disappeared. He was able to sit up with a little help, his hand still throbbing. However, most of the lines were smoothed out on his forehead and his smile was more sincere.


	3. Chapter 3

Shocked from witnessing, what he could only explain as, time in reverse, Sam was slow to respond to the children's cries to him. Focusing on the creature, he swung around and touched the body, instantly shrinking away from the chill. The feeling traveling through to his bones.

He then looked at the eldest child who was panicked and pointing behind Sam. Turning, he saw a small fire, as Dean had warned him, leaking from the fireplace. Grabbing a jacket, he ran over and smothered the flames.

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Sam heard the approaching sirens; realizing that all this activity had occurred in just a matter of minutes. He allowed himself to relax a little as he returned to care for his brother.

He became anxious as he saw Dean standing and rushed over. Again, Dean smiled at him and raised his hand as a signal to stop. He also shook his head slowly and shrugged his shoulders in answer to the question Sam had not yet asked. Sam halted instantly. Dean's raised palm was red and slightly swollen, all traces of his serious injuries erased.

He couldn't quite understand it, but the supernatural was like that sometimes. It seemed that in the time it took for the firestarter demon to lose its heat and die, Sam had watched his brother's hand heal from third-degree burns, Dean's palm was now as affected as if he had held it under very hot tap water,

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When the paramedics arrived, the parents were showing only the effects of a low-grade fever. The children were completely unharmed.

After speaking with the local law, and being totally supported and praised by the rescued family, Sam and Dean left the family's home minus one machete. How else to justify chopping off the man's hand except in a struggle for his own weapon?

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The ride back to the motel was silent. The Winchesters were exhausted. Upon arrival, Sam insisted on a good night's sleep. Dean just wanted out. So, they met half way. They would shower and hit the road but, only if Dean agreed to get some sleep. Dean knew there was no deal to make; he would soon be asleep with or without effort.

Once on the road, while Sam drove, Dean turned toward the window so he could look through the side mirror. He didn't close his eyes until he could no longer see the glow of the distant lights behind them.

After a short time, Sam could hear the light snoring, indicating that his brother was finally asleep. He was tempted to pull the car over so Dean could get more comfortable but, decided not to disturb him. He figured that a couple of hours of rest was worth a few stiff muscles and kinks to work out later.

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It was the noise. Mommy and Daddy were yelling; Sammy was crying.

Dean climbed out of bed and quickly went into the hallway. Daddy is carrying Sammy; there's fire coming out of his room. Dean is scared and now Daddy is yelling at him.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back. Now, Dean, go!"*

Without a thought, a hesitation, or even a breath, he grabs his brother tightly and runs.

If time had paused, in that split second, Dean would have seen his future. Protecting his baby brother and blindly obeying his father. Perhaps, the fates were being kind, that night, to a four-year-old boy.

He runs out into the cool night air. Dean reassures his brother but, then he does look back. He realizes that his arms are now empty. However, before his brain can register that he's no longer four years old, he hears Sam call his name and looks up to see Sam run back into the fire.

"Dean, Dean, come help me!"

He pushes off his back foot, like a runner on the blocks, and faster than he could imagine, he sprints towards the house calling out to Sam. As fast as he runs, he can't close the distance. Sam enters the burning building and Dean can't catch up.

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He hears Sam call him from far away and he answers, the sound of his own voice waking him and starting his brother. Sam brakes, sharply, then pulls the car over to the side of the road.

"Dean, you okay?"

Dean let his head fall back against the headrest as he closed his eyes, again. His breathing was ragged and shallow. He bit his lip, hard, to make sure he was awake, or alive, or something. Then, he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder.

"Sammy, we gotta save those kids."

Sam responded as calmly as his anxiety would allow. "It's over, Dean. They're all okay."

Thankful for the dark, Dean rubbed his face, wiping away the hint of tears in his eyes. He felt Sam's hand firmly squeeze his shoulder and it pushed the fear out with his next breath.

**Author's Note:**

> * Supernatural "Pilot" (S1Ep1) writer Eric Kripke


End file.
